Between Two Worlds
by njking24
Summary: Death isn't the end for Uzumaki Naruto, each experience with his own mortality sends him reeling to another world, and each brush with death there sends him back home. Stuck between two worlds Naruto has to decide between the place he was born, and the strange religion he's accepted. How will Konoha and the ninja world deal with someone like him?
1. Chapter 1

" **I live, I die. I LIVE AGAIN!"-Nux; Mad Max Fury Road**

The smell of salt, and the cold patter of water on his feet woke him up. He blinked, bright blue eyes staring up into the overarching sun above. The sky was a deep, deep blue. Only a few scant clouds hung above him. Something else was in the air as well, more than the scent off the sea, or the water lapping against his feet. Blood, and fish, and shit, cooking oil, and spices he'd never dreamed of smelling. He looked up back at the sky, and blinked at the brilliant bright blue sky above him, before rolling over and standing to his feet. Where was he? This wasn't Konoha.

Konoha didn't have an island in the middle of it. It didn't have a lake in the middle of it either, the more he thought of it. And for a fact, he knew it didn't have any ancient temples on an island, on a lake, that it didn't have in the middle of it. So he wasn't in Konoha…

What had been the last thing he'd done…? He tried to recall, but his mind came away blank, and all he got was phantom aches from the depths of his stomach. He looked down, and then frowned as he looked around again. Maybe he could swim to shore and ask around, off in the distance he could hear voices being carried off into the wind, and the occasional sights of white sailed boats made it clear that there were people here.

He looked back at the temple, at its strange massive black and white doors, then around him again. He didn't think he could swim that far to land, and besides…the water had been cold when he'd woken on the lowest steps of this island. He looked back at the door, it would hurt to knock.

He walked up and knocked. Once, then twice, then a third, and a fourth. No reply. He looked around and frowned.

"Hello? Any one there?"

He knocked again. "Hello?" Once more no reply. He frowned walked back to the lowest step on the island and leaned back against the steps. The sun had risen higher and the heat in his jacket was burning him. He took it off and dipped his feet in the water, turning his eyes back to the lake beyond and watching, waiting, watching. He could see a boat moving closer off in the distance it slow pace moving towards the island. He waited and watched. Eventually it got closer stopping a few feet away from him before a young dark haired man stepped off of it, into the water and started to walk his way towards the temple. Naruto ran up as the man climbed his way towards him, somewhat excited to see a human face for the first time since waking up. The man looked at him, raised a questioning face, and spoke in a language he'd never heard before.

"I can't understand you."

He spoke more harshly at Naruto, then walked passed and upwards towards the strange temple with black and white doors. He knocked and said two words, then the doors swung open, and the man went inside. Naruto blinked, looked at the boat which was already too far away for him to swim, and back at the door. He walked up, and knocked again.

He stumbled over the words in the strange tongue the man had said. "Valar morghulis". The words felt strange in his mouth, like he was saying gibberish with and tongue couldn't reproduce half the sounds.

The door opened…

A skull was what he saw, a near skinless rotting mask of flesh crawling with death, and maggots and other terrible things. He reached out with his hand on instinct, but blinked as the skull man caught his punch. The skull disappeared, and an old man, older than jii-san even stared back at him. His skin was a dark, dark, brown, and his face was etched with age. Lines seemed to run through his face, far, and deep.

Then the man spoke in that strange tongue again.

"Hey!" He was annoyed now, at the strange language and the strange old man and his stupid lame genjutsu. The old man blinked, tried speaking again, and more gibberish spewed from his mouth. "Are you making fun of me?"

The old man blinked again, then sighed. His hand reached out like lighting, and scratched against his face, a trickle of blood falling down his cheek before the wound healed up. The old man took the single droplet of blood, and placed it in his mouth. He spoke, slowly….

"Tell…me…boy…"

"HI!" He could understand the old man now.

"Can you understand me now?" He smiled, he could.

"Yeah!" He shouted, he couldn't help but shout as loud as he could. "Hey where is this place? And what were those strange words you keep saying? I couldn't understand you at all. Who are you? What's with your strange doors old man? And why did you scratch me?"

The old man watched him, dull grey eyes, unmoving and as stoic as stone. "Such a strange tongue, and such strange blood. Old, and rich, and powerful…yet from one so young. Good blood." He stopped for a moment. "Powerful blood. Tainted with the touch of the many faced god." He leaned forward.

"Tell me boy." His old hand reached out again, and touched him. "What has brought you to the temple of the god of many faces?"

"What?"

"What brought you here?" The old man asked him again, slower this time.

"I don't know, I just…woke up on the beach, and I knocked on your weird door and no one answered. And when I asked people they spoke weird."

"The old man was silent, grey sharp eyes watching like a hawks.

"Come. Some of you questions may be answered with ease, others even I don't hold the answer too…but maybe time will tell."

-Naruto-

"Who are you?" The old man asked in his withered whisper-like voice.

"No one." He lied. He wasn't no one. He was Uzumaki Naruto, before he'd woken up on the rocky of a shore of the temple of the many faced god, he'd wanted to be a ninja. He'd dreamed of being Hokage and finally gaining the recognition of the village he'd always craved. He was Uzumaki Naruto, and at the same time, after spending nearly two weeks here, he wished he wasn't.

"You lie, worst yet you lie poorly." The old man's hand lashed out and the whip like stick he used during these sessions smashed into his side, causing him to yelp in pain. "Learn to lie better."

-Naruto-

He looked at the tall, brown skinned man. His hair was slicked back, his skin like bronze, and pale yellow eyes to match. He was clothed in bright hues of purple, and blue and gold. At his side was a great long blade, and his face held a wicked smirk.

He could barely understand the man, but what he could understand didn't bode well.

"Terro…" Something or the other. Naruto, realized it must have been his name. The words fight slipped into there, and the man pulled his long blade from his side... "Challenge…" He'd learned that word early, challenge, the acolytes used the word when they sparred. They sparred harshly. "Challenge," challenge was they always used, though _beating_ would have been a better word. "Fight, or die." That he didn't understand, but he got the inference.

He pulled his kunai out and launched forward, dodged left and down, allowing the blade to sweep high past his head, and jumped forward with his kunai extended. It slipped through the man's clothes and punched deep into his side. He screamed and Naruto dashed back. The man's sword was thin and long, like a razor edged needle dancing across his side it left a long deep gash that spilled blood low water from a stream. He grunted, ignoring the pain and the blood, dashing forwards, his kunai extended he blocked another swing of the man's sword then buried the blade as deep as he could into his neck.

The man blinked, looked down at the blade in his neck and laughed. "Terro.." The man said more words, his bright yellow eyes glittering and the sounds coming out wet and sick. He laughed. Then the brightness in his eyes faded and he fell over. Dead.

He'd killed a man.

-Naruto

He returns to the temple covered in blood, the acolytes say nothing. He goes to his room, and it is there that he finds the old man.

"The many faced god's presence reeks on you." The old man looks him over, his eyes cold and ashen and grey. The old man stands up, walks over and lifts up his stained clothes. The old man stares at his stomach, where he now notices the strange and numerous marks of obvious fuinjutsu, glowing, subtly at the touch of blood fresh spilt on his seal.

"Come. Follow." He does. He goes into a courtyard where the moon hangs above, a bright blue sphere that takes up the entirety of the sky. He blinks, in the courtyard is a man, tall, with hair so long and sleek it reminded him of a river. Its black hue shone blue in the moon's light. The man wore the duel tone garb of the acolytes of the many faced god.

"If you wish to go out into the city, in those bright clothes of yours you should learn how to fight. The bravos move in groups of three most of the time. A boy is lucky to face one and only one."

"I know how to fight."

"With those knives, yes, a little. But to fight in this world you need a blade, and a good teacher. He will teach you. This." The old man caught the sword that had been thrown by the strange tall man. It was thin, and long, unlike any sword he'd ever seen before. It shone like water in the night, its steel rippling like waves. "Will be your weapon and he your teacher."

The tall man said nothing, instead he leapt, high into the air and arching. Naruto blinked and barely jumped back in time.

-Naruto-

He'd been here for six months. Six long months. Outside the temple walls he could see the falling arch of the sun, its waylaid lights spanning across the temple ground causing long shadows to form.

"Say the words." He stepped forwards. Words long memorized mixing with thoughts he'd done his best to express. The sounds of the tongue sounded strange to him even as he moved forward, and no doubt his accent was atrocious but still the words.

"I swear loyalty to the many faced god." The shadows seemed to extend. To spread far and wide flickering as the sun's light seemed incapable of breaching the temple's walls. "I swear loyalty to the faceless men of braavos." The pool of dark black liquid shuddered. Waves birthing where there were none before. He grunted and did his best to ignore the swirling pain in the depths of his belly.

"The gift of the many faced god makes all men equal. In my loyalty I give away myself. I decry my dreams. I am no one." The pain in his belly grew, a fire birthed in his bowls, and he had to bite his tongue to staunch a scream. "I give myself to the many faced god, to the faceless men. I swear away all ties, all loyalties." He finished and his new brothers grabbed him and helped him to the pools. His stomach was glowing, great swirling marks shining bright in the darkly lit temple. The brother said nothing, and he walked to the pool.

Then they drowned him. They grabbed his hands, his feet, and his small body and held him and forced his head beneath the pool of water. He struggled, did his best to fight against them. His stomach twisted and churned like butter. He died. The water filled his lungs and the heat burned and churned and twisted his stomach.

He died. With water filling his lungs and the fierce inferno in his belly.

-Naruto-

He gasped awake. Hot air filling his lungs and sweat covering his body like a thick disgusting second skin. He took deep long breaths. It took a few moments for him to realize he wasn't drowning. That no hands were holding him beneath the black pool in the temple. That he in-fact could breath, and wasn't drowning, and the inferno that seemed to burn in the depths of his belly had indeed cooled down some. Still, it left a phantom sensation, a deep long warmth that seemed to radiate from his core.

He blinked as he took a look around. He wasn't in the temple anymore. The high windows and stone walls were no longer there. The firm hay bed he'd taken months to get used to was gone. The sounds of waves crashing against the beachhead of the temple, of sea birds calling out distantly, of the city and the people were all gone.

He stared at his surroundings surprised.

He was back in Konoha. He was back in Konoha, back in his bed, like nothing had happened at all. Had it been a dream? He looked down at his hands, and noticed the duel tone sleeves of the temple robes. It hadn't been a dream. Dreams didn't actually affect the real world did they? He moved and felt something heavy with him on the bed. He glanced at it and stared owlishly at it.

His sword. He hadn't even had it with him when he'd been at the ceremony, and yet, there it was. Long as he was tall, as wide as his shoulders and the steel rippled. The morning light that hit it reflected like a pool of water. It rippled, twisting and turning and seeming alive.

He was back in Konoha….and yet he'd spent some time…somewhere else? He got up and walked to his bedroom windows and looked out, it was dawn, and a few people were moving about idly in the village streets.

When he'd been at the temple he'd been under the impression that'd he'd be there forever. He'd contemplated and thought, and pontificated all he could. He'd given _himself_ up, the individual known as Uzumaki Naruto became no one. The old man at the temple had told him that to become an acolyte of the many faced god he'd have to surrender himself.

He had. And now, with the faces of the men he'd aspired to be like as long as he could remember looming over him he found his old dreams lacking. He'd wanted acknowledgement, recognition, respect. He'd wanted to be noticed. At the temple he'd lost those wants, who needed acknowledgement when the brothers of the many faced god accepted him as he was, saw him as he was and understood, and knew. Knew that he was a scared little boy, that he wanted to be acknowledged, understood respected, and wanted to be noticed. They'd helped him understand that to be acknowledged was pointless, to be respected was pointless, in the end the many faced god came for all men. In the end, all men met his embrace and received his gift.

So he gave up those things, the ambition and drive that had made him strive against it all, they ate with him, and thought him, and treated him like one of them. They thought him their language, and their arts. When he went into the free city of Braavos, people didn't stare, they glanced and a few pretty girls smiled but in the end he was another foreigner, another stranger in a city of strangers. Another normal person, something he'd never felt in Konoha.

He went from the window to the closet, and looked inside. His orange jumpsuit was gone, ruined in the free city when the Bravos had decided to test his blade on a brightly clothed youth. But he did have a set of other clothes he wore less often. He grabbed a white shirt, and some black shorts and a spare kunai pouch. He put those on, searched under his bed for the spare set of kunai he kept around and filled his pouch. He looked at the sword on his bed, the valyrian steel blade had slid and almost hit the ground. He grabbed it, it rippling surface gleamed in the light, and swung it, it felt like an extension of his hand. He grunted, slid it into his closet and under a pile of old clothes. He'd never used a sword before he'd woken up in bravos more than half a year before, and using one now would be suspicious. How much time had passed since he'd been gone? He looked at his alarm, it was pricey and special. It kept the time, and the day of the week.

It was Thursday, which meant he had to be in the academy today. But the clock told him it was twelve which meant he was far more than a little late and going today would be pointless. Instead he went to his fridge and looked inside for something to eat. He frowned, dejected when he realized it was empty. He went back to him roo, reached under his bed and removed the floorboards he kept his wallet under. He reached inside, just a little over 600 ryo, not enough to even buy him lunch.

He cursed.

He sat on his bed and thought. He felt hungry, and needed food as soon as possible. He scowled, he needed to figure out how go to the free city of Braavos as well. HE sat up and stretched, and blinked as he heard a rampant knocking on the door. He ignored it, instead deciding to focus on his thoughts, he'd drowned in the pool of the many faced god and woken up here. He'd died, and ended up back in Konoha. So…maybe he'd died before? But how?

He looked around his room. Nothing, it was just as he remembered. But then his memory of his room was foggy at best. His stomach rumbled and he groaned in pain. The door banged again, and again, and again. He sighed, resigned himself to opening it, and looked. It was Iruka.

He smiled, He'd missed his old sensei. Though, by the look on the man's face, he didn't seem to miss him that much at all.

"Naruto!" His face was lithe with anger and rage. "You Idiot! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Iruka Sensei seemed really, truly angry. Yet the strange combination of fear, and excitement he normally felt when the man was angry at him, the fact that the man was showing he cared enough about him to get angry at _him_ that brought these emotions to bear wasn't there. At least not in the unaltered rush it used to be.

-Iruka-

He stopped mid rant as he finally got a good look at the boy. He was pale, sickly pale, and deep bags ran under his eyes as if he'd gone days without sleep. He didn't seem frail, yet he did seem sickly, as if his body was shaking where he stood.

The deep growl from the boy's stomach made the worry expand even more. "Are you okay?"

"Just..." His words came out slow, and his voice quivered like a leaf in a distant breeze. "J-just a little hungry, and tired." He eyed the boy, concern growing, he wasn't wearing his normal jumpsuit, instead opting for a white shirt and dark black pants. Where was his jumpsuit? The iconic orange garb was synonymous with the youth, and seeing him without was also disheartening.

He wanted to rant, to be angry at the boy for missing so many days of classes' just weeks from the next graduation exam. But looking at him…

"Why don't we go get something to eat, eh? We can talk then." Naruto blinked in surprise, then a wry grin spread across his face. His voice was still unsteady when he responded. "Sure thing sensei." The enthusiasm he'd show wasn't there like usual though.

They walked in silence from his house to Ichiraku's. The boy said nothing the entire time, though his eyes scanned the crowd and their looks, or sometimes lack thereof at him. Iruka had never really noticed before, but people seemed to be in two camps when looking at the blond. They either pointedly ignored his existence, doing their best to pretend he wasn't there or made their disdain of him or perhaps what he contained obvious. He wondered what was going through the blonds mind at this moment. His face was stoic, unmoving and his deep blue eyes seemed to have turned into an endless arctic sea.

"You okay Naruto? You know sensei is here if anything's bothering you?" He was quiet for a moment. "You can always talk to me."

The boy stopped walking and took a look at him. His face flickered through an emotion for the shortest of moments, the flat line of his mouth warping downwards for the briefest of seconds.

"Yes," He looked around a touch of uncharacteristic paranoia on his face. "But, not here sensei. After Ichiraku, if you have time, let's go to the monument and we'll talk there."

Then he started walking again, ending the conversation in a way he'd never seen the boy do before. They arrived at the raman stand, and the boy plopped down at one of the bar stools and called out to the chef.

"Old man! One large bowl of shrimp ramen on Iruka-sensei." There was a reply from Ichiraku and the boy had eaten half the bowl by the time he ducked down to enter the stand. He ordered a small miso for himself and watched as the blond stuffed three more bowls down his stomach before he leaned back with a sigh of relief. Iruka paid, then the two started their walk to the Hokage monument. He looked up at the sky, he had about twenty minutes left before the students returned from their lunch breaks. The walk from Ichiraku to the monument took ten of those at a brisk pace. Once they were there though, the blond haired boy walked to the edge, looked over and flopped down into a sitting position.

"Do you know why people don't like me Iruka-sensei?" Iruka blinked in response. He wanted to answer and tell him, but…the law, his duty as a Konoha-nin kept his mouth close.

"No." He lied. Naruto nodded and sighed. He lifted his white shirt, where Iruka could now see the seal inked across his stomach, its intricate turns and twists forming a runic circle that somehow kept a demon at bay.

"I think it has something to do with this." He pointed to it. "I…don't belong here sensei." He said after a brief pause. "People don't like me, and other than you, and old man Hokage, old man Ichiraku and his daughter I don't think I like them that much either." He stood up walking closer to the edge of the monument.

"I never really realized how bad it was you know, perspective…" He laughed, then muttered _something_ beneath his breath. It sounded like nonsense, fake words strewn together. He turned towards him, tears dripping down his face. The sun overhead made his golden locks glow, the wind caused them to flutter like grass. _He was so pale…_

"I don't want to be in Konoha anymore." He walked closer to the edge, and the feeling was like falling a thousand feet into an endless pit. "I don't want to be in this _world_ anymore." He was moving before his body even knew what it was doing. But even then he was too slow. Too slow.

"Valar Morghulis." Nonsense words as Naruto leapt, not feel, leapt, from the cliff. He was too slow. The boy was falling. Seconds seemed to pass in hours. His blond student was smiling as he fell to his death, his bright blue eyes seeming far, far away. He reached to edge too late, all he could do was look over the cliff's face and watch as the blonds body hit the ground a few hundred feet below.

 **-Authors note-**

 **A game of thrones Naruto crossover? Eh, I like the idea, but it's hard to implement. I like the idea of death being involved though, and it having something to do with the incarnation of the many faced god in his world. I also like how gods are** _ **very**_ **real in both worlds. So why shouldn't the many faced god exist in multiple worlds, and why shouldn't calling on one incarnation of his existence have an effect over multiple universes. I hope I can explain more, my other stories aren't dead, i've just wanted to do a crossover for…forever. I don't even really consider this a crossover, more like a cross infection, the time line that Naruto's in g.o.t is no where near close to the game/books. its a few hundred years away, and i did that because i don't really want the events of the show/city to affect this fic at all. This fic is about naruto, like almost all my fics and i want to keep it that way.**


	2. Chapter 2

He stands before the classroom door frozen. One of his arms were still in cast, and it made him feel strange not to have a blade in his hand. His face is blank, a _laehurlion dōrenka,_ a stone face, emotionless, and still as the dark pools of the temple. He breaths, slowly, carefully. In part to control his fear, and in part to control his shame. He should have thought more, thought longer before making such a rash decision. At least he should have waited until he was alone first.

His other hand is healed, but the one in the cast had set wrong in the few days after he'd jumped from the monument and his body had somehow healed himself while he was _away._ So they'd waited for him to wake up, and then they neatly broke the limb once. He flexes the arm, and a tiny ounce of pain shred through him, and he winces, and then shames floods again.

He'd been angry, all those months? Or was it days? Ago. Iruka had _lied_ he'd known something, had looked Naruto in the face and lied. And in those moments he'd wondered how long had Iruka known, who else knew? Jii-san had, the entirety of Konoha. They knew, and they hated him for something, and they wouldn't tell him. So, in a moment of weakness he'd been rash, angry, sad, never wanting this place again and missing the sounds and smells of Braavos. He'd jumped, and died, and woken up back in the free city.

But life was short and hard there and so he was back here. In Konoha, almost eight months later and facing the shame of his actions. He shouldn't have jumped, that was foolish, and he shouldn't have jumped in front of Iruka-Sensei that was a cruel hateful act. He sighed, used his other hand to run through his thick blond hair and readied himself. He slid the door open, and the room went silent.

He said nothing instead going to the back of the room, he could feel the eyes on him, Iruka-Sensei's dark brown pools blazing intently on him. He ignored it, picked an empty seat not to the back, but in the middle of the room. He looked forwards, staring at Iruka and smiled a small smile. He mouthed, "Lets talks after class" and the man nodded.

The lesson was boring, a review of the history of Konoha, and somehow during the lecture he'd fallen asleep. He didn't wake up, not until in the depths of his slumber he'd felt _something_ wrong and had woken up in the quick and quiet starts he'd gotten used to in Braavos. Kiba was on the desk, most of the students were out of the room, and Iruka-Sensei wasn't there. He took a look outside, it was noon, which meant that it was just about time for lunch.

Kiba was staring at him, his tan skin and rich brown hair making his feature, the deep red tattoos on either side of his face and the fangs he was named after even more visible. Kiba was sniffing him, and the frown on his face made him realize that he wasn't going to like this, whatever it was.

"You smell like blood."

Did he? Was it his own, or did the smell of blood transfer from world to world?

"There's been rumors…" He let the question trail on. The other students were watching them, staring at their interaction and pretending to _not_ be listening in. They were poor actors.

"You haven't been in class for a few weeks, and you show up with your arm in a cast and smelling like old blood. There's been rumors…" He said again. Shikamaru stood up and walked over, sighing as if the very action itself took a great amount of personal effort.

"Leave him alone Kiba. If Naruto wanted to talk about it-"

"Shut up." He looked at Naruto, though the blond couldn't quite tell what exact expression the other boy was showing on his face. It was a cross between angry, and sadness, and worry. Then a look of deep concentration crossed his face, and he started to look back at Naruto.

"Did you really jump from the Hokage's monument?"

He blinked. Then, the stone face slid down and he showed nothing. He didn't answer, because in truth he had no way to answer. Kiba, he could tell wasn't going to take a simple no, and he didn't want to explain. Didn't know how to explain, really. The Faceless Men, The Many Faced God, Braavos, water dancing and the strange tie between death and his escape from this place. Mareen and the fighting pits and his mission and the only reason he returned. How to say to him Konoha was the other side of the paradise. The opposite, of cool safe bravos. In Braavos, he was an acolyte of the many faced god, a stranger, a normal accepted person. In Braavos he worked and helped and _served_ The Many Faced God. In konoha he was a pariah.

 _Valar Dohaeris. All men must serve._

He said Nothing and Kiba stared. "Only cowards take that way out." He snarled and Naruto blinked. Why did Kiba care so much? Who was he to decide how anyone sought to find peace? He kept the stone face, and instead took a deep breath. Death was a release, a mercy to the cruelty that was life.

"Death…death is mercy." He whispered. "You have to be strong to look down at the cliff face of your own end... to see it and take that jump. You have to dig into the last of the strength you have and hold onto it, and use it all." His voice was shaky, when was the last time he'd spoken in his own tongue, eight, nine months ago? And even then he'd said less than a handful of words. He was talking slow, pausing because he struggled to remember words. "It's not a coward's way out…"

Iruka-Sensei had walked in just at that time. "What's going on here? Everyone back to their seats. He stared pointedly at Kiba. "Now!"

The rest of the class passes in a daze until finally, Iruka dismisses them. He sits in the back quietly and waits for the other students to speak with the man, they do, and finally after they all leave Iruka approaches him. There's a tense silence. He decides to break it, no point in making this more awkward than it has to be.

"I'm sorry Iruka-sensei."

The man is quiet for a few moments, his face just barely showing flickers of emotion. Worry, anger, concern and surprise.

"You don't have to apologize. Naruto if there was something bothering you, I'm here!" He starts out quietly but by the end his practically screaming, his voice loud enough to show his anger, but corralled so no others can hear them. "Hokage-Sama is here for you two. We care about you, even Techui from Ichiraku Ramen. We care Naruto, we would have talked to you, you don't have to face _this_ alone."

Naruto feels a brief moment of anger spark up, but he calls himself. " _Vallar dohaeris_." All men must serve. He wants to scream that Konoha is a hypocritical hell hole, that all of them, the Hokage, Techui, even Iruka lied to him for years, allowed him to face the loneliness and looks and comments _alone_ for _years._ Let him feel as if he deserved to be hated, as if the onus was on him to prove he wasn't evil, that he was worth noticing, worth being seen as a human being. For _years._ Naruto holds his tongue, _Vallar Dohaeris_ , all men must serve, must live their life as it is handed to him by the other face of the God of Many Faces. He had no choice in being who he was. In having a demon sealed in him, and besides without it, who knows, he would have never found himself before the house of black and white. Never met the old man. Never joined and become a faceless man.

Iruka-Sensei cares after all. "It's not that simple sensei. No." He's quiet for a moment. He lifts his hand, and lets Iruka see how pale his skin is, really see. He looks sickly he realizes. Normally he's tan, his skin a dark rich bronze, but now? "It is that simple. The number of people that do care about me can be counted on my left hand."

"I wasn't thinking about you, or how it'd look for me to jump from the Hokage's monument. I just wanted to return." He waves his hand. Iruka-Sensei looks confused. Naruto sighs. Instead he speaks in high valyrian.

" _Braavos."_

The man blinks, then frowns. "What?"

"It's hard to explain, and I don't think you'd believe me." He was standing up. "Talk to Hokage-sama, He'll explain far better than I ever could." Iruka felt a yawing distance grow between them as he watched the boy leave. In the timespan of a few short days Uzumaki Naruto had changed. Iruka blinked as he noticed something as well, was Naruto taller?

-Iruka-

"I'm sorry Hokage-sama…I think I misheard." The old man sighed and leaned back.

"His change has nothing to do with the Kyuubi though it does involve the seal, or rather the Shinigami."

Iruka blinked. How was the Shinigami involved with the seal, as if the nine tailed fox wasn't enough? "The shiki fuin is a special seal. It was the seal that cost the Yondaime his life, not the battle itself with the Kyuubi." The elderly leader stared Iruka in the eyes. "It summoned the Shinigami, and in exchange for his life and his soul, the Shinigami sealed the Kyuubi away inside Naruto."

Iruka blinked as the full expanse of those words hit him. The Yondaime had given his life, and his afterlife to save the village. Had summoned the god do death itself to deal with the demon assaulting his village. Iruka gulped. He hadn't known that, and he wondered exactly how many knew this fact.

"The details around the sealing are of course state secrets and so know this fact. The problem with Naruto-kun lies in the relation between the Shinigami and his seal. Before I begin, Iruka-san please know I'm telling you this because Naruto cares about you, and you seem to do the same for him. We'll need people he cares about to help manage this situation before it become a bigger problem than it already is."

"Hokage-sama, I'm not sure if I completely understand you here..."

"The seal has done something strange to Naruto-kun. If he hadn't jumped from the Hokage's monument I'm not quite sure we would have ever discovered exactly what was going on. When you brought him in, it was already too late. His heart had stopped, he'd had major damage to his lungs, and most of the bones in his body had been broken, add in the major blood loss he experienced while they were trying to heal him…" The Hokage-sighed. "He was declared dead as I entered the room. I stood there, Iruka-san I watched him die. Then I watched as the seal seemed to expand over his entire body, and a potent energy I've never felt before wash over his body. It wasn't quite chakra, and describing it is…difficult. Imagine a new aspect of killing intent, one that not filled with rage or anger, or bloodlust, just a simple unaltered senses of one's own mortality. I felt small Iruka-san, as if I was glimpsing at something…" The Sandaime was quiet for a few moments.

"Something incomprehensible. He didn't wake up for six days after that, and by the time he did most of his wounds were healed. I wasn't there when awoke, but the report is here. He injured one of the on guard anbu, and broke the windpipe of the nurse attending him at the time." A small manila envelope was slid his way.

"I arrived in time to hear him shouting in what I first thought was nonsensical ramblings, it was a different language." Iruka blinked. There was only one language in the Elemental Nations. All other having been succeeded by the one they spoke now. "He was screaming, shouting at us and made with a fury I've never seen before." The old man frowned and sighed. "Val-har Mor-gahl-is." He sounded it out as best as he could, slowly, struggling with the strange vowel sounds. "He said to me after a few moments in his mad haze. He calmed down once I entered the room, he was confused Iruka-san. About where he was, and Naruto seemed to struggle for a while just trying to remember how to speak."

"I asked him exactly what was going on, what was happening to him. It's all explained in that folder. Read it, Iruka-san, when you do, you'll understand why we need to take care when handling this situation, and why you're so important."

He dreams for the first time in a year and a half. Even in this half asleep stupor of a state, lying in bed, the mattress feeling strange and the sounds seeming so much unlike Bravos in his ears, he can tell soon he will dream. In Braavo's he'd never dreamed, and in Maren sleep itself was a notion he could rarely count on, so at night he fell in an unconscious stupor, and in the morning he woke up with the memory of the dark black deeper than that of the night.

So he dreamed.

He stood in an empty black void, and endless expanse of far reaching darkness that stretched on for an eternity in all directions. Then pinpricks of light exploded into the world, tiny little lights that birthed and flung themselves suddenly into the darkness. One then a thousand, then a million, million, little lights dim and distant, and visible yet the darkness of the void remains. They seemed to swirl, twisting and forming. An eye appeared, a billion pinpricks forming its one great iris and the eternal void of the darkness as its pupil. Whips of clouds made of fantastic colors, hues of red, and purples, and blues he'd never witnessed accented the whites of the iris. I was looking at him glimpsing him.

The pupil was a dark void expanding then contracting with piteous slowness. The lights flickered to black, then they came back to life. The pupil of blackness contracted, squeezing until it was simple three times his size, and seemed to be starting directly at him. A voice, a woman's whisper, a man's far cry, a crone's haggled laugh, forming a symphony of vocals spoke.

"Ah…."

He blinked. Surprised. The void seemed to be reaching out with the sound. To call the voice the voice of a god, the star filled eyes-for he now realized he was staring at stars, moved to form this image- simply to call it a god's sight was a misnomer. One single god wasn't so powerful, one single entity wasn't so strong. This was _him._

 _The many faced god._

It looked at him, truly looked saw every aspect of him, every ounce of his being in whole. The eternal void stilled, the pupil of unspeakable blackness widened again and its focus on him was gone.

"A spark, an infinitesimal light appears before one such as me." A thousand voices in a million tongues, sublime, filed with clicks and calls and words, like a bird's song. Not words but thoughts buried deep into the depths of my mind. "A spark before the suns overbearing light, before the nova of my existence, the great big universe bearing bang that is I." The void expanded as it spoke. "A spark…" It laughter was a rumbling felt in his soul. His chest shaking without his control. He said nothing, could say nothing. Then he woke up.

He felt well, the aches of his body was gone, and the cast he'd kept on his mangled arm had fallen off. He flexed the apadenage, and sighed. It was healed, he was healed. And his blade lay next to him.

Valyrian steel was supposed to light, but a great sword no matter how light was still a heavy weapon. A beast of a blade requiring both hands of a man grown to wield. He could wield it in one hand, and swing the blade with a grace and ease that had surprised his teacher. He held the black simple pummel of his sword in his hands, holding the steel still as his other hand wrapped thick white gauze around the blade.

With a grunt it was placed on his back, he moved his shoulders and tested his range of motion. The window sill slid open with a loud thunk, and he moved through, and started towards the academy. Fifteen minutes later he landed at the academy grounds.

Today was the graduation exam he realized as he walked to the class. The students around him talked in hushed tones, excited voices, and mild ramblings. A few pointed glares were sent his way, and he ignored them. As he walked, he felt a sense of detachment. Something he hadn't felt his previous two times before, a sense of objectiveness and indifference he would have thought impossible. He didn't even know if he wanted to be a ninja still, being an acolyte of the many faced god had fulfilled everything he'd ever wanted. Living in Braavo's, living away from the stares and the hate, and the pointed ignorance of his being. He'd thought being a ninja would have made him accepted, yet, in Braavo's, training to water dance, learning the arts of the Faceless Men, he was accepted. And being accepted there had made him realize that he would never be accepted here. He was a pariah.

He didn't care about Konoha. He should have felt sad about that, he thought, felt more than the apathy he now held close to his heart about Konoha. He didn't hate this place, in truth Konoha was a great city, clean, and orderly and well policed compared to the cities of Braavos or Marren. And even if he was a pariah he hadn't been abused, he'd been well fed a fact which he had learned in that other world rarely happened to most people, let alone orphans.

Somehow lost in his own thoughts he'd managed to find a way into class. A voice spoke and he found himself slamming back into the waking world.

"Okay!" Iruka Sensei called out. "You can begin now."

He looked down at the paper confused, a frown on his face. The lines made no sense, swirling and straight mashed together in a shapes rather than the tight concentric letters that made words of meaning in Valerian. He blinked. He was reading Kanji, and thinking in Valerian. He blinked again, as the words slowly formed meaning, and he started thinking in his home tongue again.

Even before he'd spent nearly a year and a half in another world, he'd have difficulty answering this, he stared blankly at the paper then put his head down. The test was only twenty percent of the grade, important, but you could still pass while failing the entire things. He felt confident in his skills.

He woke up to a gentle tap on his shoulders and stared up. It was a girl, one of the…what was their names again? The Hyuuga…She looked shy, and meek with her body tiny shudders as she talked to him. She seemed sad, for whatever reason.

"Naruto-san…" She was shaking uncontrollably. "It's time for the physical exams." He looked up at her, smiled a smile both the girls in Braavos and Maureen had always giggled at and thanked her. The he stood walked out room and joined the rest of the class. The physical exams were a joke, and he breezed through theme. His Kunai throwing was perfect, he had always been able to run through the obstacle course the fastest and quickest, and the run in the mild breeze of the Konoha spring was nothing to the hot humid heat of midday in braavos. He excelled. Then came the taijutsu exam.

Mizuki-sensei asked if he'd rather it be a kenjutsu exam. Staring at him with eyes filled with a level of malevolent anger that was hard to describe.

"Naruto-kun, I notice you have a sword with you today. You can take a kenjutsu exam in lieu of the taijutsu exam if you wish. It's an option that's been available since the first ninja war for academy students." He stared. Either wishing to embarrass him, or hoping he'd take up the offer. He frowned, then nodded. Fist fights in Bravos were little more than brawls, close quarters matches where men fought brutally without style either aiming to main or hurt rather than kill. There was no need to kill with your hands when the knife and good steel was so easily available to man. He'd learned no Taijutsu. He smiled, nodded and unwrapped the blade. The class gasped, staring at the strange weapon.

Valyrian steel rippled like water in the sun. The broad sword had never been seen in this world, and in comparison to Katana's seemed almost useless and impractical. Despite the seeming opulence of the blade itself, the handle was a simple steel pummel wrapped in worn dark brown leather. The blades strange ripple and the simple leather only highlighted the strangeness of the weapon in the eyes of this small private audience. A few noted that deep grooves cast into the blades center and brushing away.

He hefted it, twirling the blade and turning to face Mizuki-sensei. He took a few quick practice swings, surprising people by holding the blade in one hand as he took quick deft swings left and right. It was massive, and he was small. He turned and nodded, and Mizuki-sensei dashed forward.

A Katana against a longsword. Swords in the Elemental Nations were made was they were because iron was rare. It could take dozens of Kunai to make just one well forged a katana, and as iron was rare out of pure necessity the weapons had been made to be light, and strung, and sturdy. But in exchange they were brittle fragile things, as far as steel went at least. In Platanos, iron was far from rare, and those capable of working it into steel almost as abundant. Long swords were great heavy weapons, cast rather than forged from strong steel meant to be used by men that stood as tall as giants against their peasant peers. This meant longsword were heavier, stronger, could be as sharp as their Kata counterparts and far less brittle. Valyrian steel was lighter, forged, then cast, then forged again. Blessed with the spells and magic of old Valyria. It was stronger than any single longsword, shaper than a razors edge, would not rust, lighter and far more durable than anything seen in the elemental nations.

Mizuki's Katana, a plain functional blade bought at some expense and used by most chunin and jounin who fancied themselves Kenjutsu users was inadequate against Valyrian steel. Naruto brought the blade crashing down on Mizuki's blade and it chipped. Mizuki stared.

Uzumaki Naruto danced the water dance. He flowed, dancing around Mizuki's strikes, parrying swings from the katana with the double bladed edge of his sword. His footwork had him leaping back at each of Mizuki's swings, his sword deflecting blows like the water of the rocky bed of a stream's edge. He twists his wrist while blocking a backswing, bringing the longsword back up, and slamming the blade into Mizukis fingers. There's an instant, a few moments of absolute silence barely a heartbeat long, where Mizuki's fingers left his hand and fell to the floor.

Naruto was moving on instinct, his blade coming back up again even as the katana fell from Mizukis hands. He was tackled, his body hitting the ground and a loud "umph" escaping his lips as he felt strong arms clamp onto his body, holding his arm behind his back.

"Naruto…that's enough. You pass." He blinked, letting the blade go, and releasing a deep, long sigh. He looked at Mizuki Sensei, the man was still, grasping his hand and trying to bind his bloody stumps. His Katana was at his side. Naruto sighed, and pulled a new pack of bandages from a pocket on his side. He used his shirt, wiped the blood clean, and wrapped the blade back into its tight holster of bandages. He worked them in such a way that if he felt so inclined he could unwrap all the bandages in one fluid motion.

"H…hai." The entire class was watching, somewhat slack jawed. He stared at them for a few seconds, then smiled a small smile. It was almost like the pits.

Kakashi stared at the Hokage his face a blank mask, though the other jounin in the room could easily tell that he was upset.

"I'm sorry Hokage-sama, Uzumaki Naruto is no longer on my team?"

The old man sighed. He took a piece of tobacco from a drawer in his desk, then placed it in his pipe. A spark of chakra from his fingers ignited it, and he took a deep drag before he responded.

"I think you, if anyone should understand that team placements are not permeant. The suggestions placed by council are still just suggestions, extenuating circumstances often means we may have to rebalance teams, and these circumstances now apply to Naruto-kun." He took another drag of his pipe. "Please stay after the meeting, we can have a discussion on this matter."

Kurnia spoke up as the Hokage finished speaking. "Hokage-sama….is it safe to assume he is now placed on my team then? From what I read Uzumaki's Stamina and chakra reserves makes him a likely candidate for a front line team. If he's not on Kakashi's team, then he'd have to be on mines, which means…" She stopped and thought it over for a moment. "You've swapped him with Kiba?"

The old man raised an eyebrow and nodded. "I think it would be a slightly better fit, as far as personalities go."

Kakashi said nothing else for the rest of the meeting. His mind was else-where, far away and distant, remembering a blond haired man who'd become an older brother to him. He'd stayed away, assuring himself that eventually the blond would be placed on his team, and once there he'd get the chance to do for Minato-sensei's son what Minato-sensei had done to him. Now..

"Kakashi..." He came out of his though and blinked. Almost everyone in the room was gone, only he, Kurunia, and the Hokage remained.

The aged leader seemed especially haggard today, his brown eyes seemed to have sunk deeper into his face, and skin was almost sickly. Had he even been getting sleep recently?

"I wish things hadn't developed as they have recently…but they have. That changes things." He placed more tobacco in his pipe. Kakashi said nothing for a few moments. He'd heard rumors, but rumors spread like wildfire in a shinobi village.

"He really jumped didn't he, Hokage-sama? He tried to kill himself."

The old man nodded, then sighed. "Yes, and no." He took a deep drag of his pipe and continued to speak. "He jumped but not to kill himself." He looked pointedly at Kakashi, then Kurnia. He spoke his next words slowly. "Something has happened with the seal. Something strange, and it has Naruto-kun in its grasps. He's behaving strangely, showing an aptitude for skills he shouldn't have. Speaking another language when there's only been one language in the elemental nations for hundreds of years." He said nothing, they too in turn were silent. Their minds reeling.

"I' changed the team placements because his personality has changed, his skillset has changed. Most importantly though his outlook towards Konoha has changed. I think a team dynamic like the one that he would have faced in team seven is not what he needs. He views this place in a distasteful like, it's not a home to him, it's just a place he's damned to spend his time when he's…" The hokage sighed. Reached underneath his desk and pulled out a pair of scrolls.

"This affects both of you. Read this, and hopefully you'll understand my decision. Don't be too concerned please… I've contacted Jiraiya and he'll be back within the month to take a look at the seal. But until he arrives we have to do our best to keep Uzumaki Naruto from trying to take his own life…" He stared at them, a sad smile marring his face. They seemed confused, but said nothing looking at the scrolls. He handed one to each of them, then dismissed them. Kurnai would need to know about his situation, and Kakashi would need to know why he broke a years old promise.

Breath. He had been thought to breathe properly in the house of black and white. To feel himself in relation to his environment. To calm himself, and rally his emotions the best he could. The first step to a peaceful mind was to breath. So he took deep slow breaths and mentally repeated the mantras of the house of black and white.

Yet it's hard to keep calm when he can feel their eyes on him. In Braavos he had been just one stranger in a land of strangers, in Marren he had been a slave boy in the pits fighting and killing for his masters. In Konoha he was the _demon boy_ to be hated and ignored, to be cheated and lied to, to be hated. Now though a day after showing skills he'd never shown, now after apparently trying to kill himself, now after it had occurred to him he wasn't just a stupid little boy they watched him.

He sighs, and opens his eyes. The exercises are not working, and there's someone staring at him. The boys black hair is undeniably Sasuke's. Two some odd years his own subjective time had wiped the memory of most of his classmates from his mind, yet even as a distant Haze Sasuke had remained in his memory.

Sasuke is staring at him. So close he can smell the slight undercurrent of tomatoes on the other boys breath. Obsidian eyes stare at him, they hold within them something…A mix between anger, jealousy, confusion and a deep wanting of something more.

"Can I help you?" Naruto can't help but to feel conscious of how _dry_ his voice sounds, hoarse and raspy, and twanged with a patina he'd never noticed before.

"Where did you get that blade?" There was envy is his voice. He looked at it intently, taking in every aspect of it. "I've never seen a weapon like that before, or even heard of it."

"It's called a _great sword,"_ the last part was in valerian. There was no word for great sword, and zanbato, horse cleaving blade, was nothing like his own weapon.

"A what?"

"It translates to long sword, or mighty sword, roughly." Sasuke stared. He tried to sound the words out himself. "Rov..ve..grie…Eg…ros..?"

"Rovegrie Egros" Naruto repeated to him in a confident cadence.

"Blade of great edge." He looked at Sasuke. "And you will never find another like it in the world." The black haired teen stared at him, then became obstinate.

"And why the hell would that be?"

"Because the people who make them are dead, and the knowledge to make a blade like this died with them." A truth, a half-truth, an almost lie that's not quite there. People were staring, looking, on instinct his hand reached back, gripping the handle of the blade. Sasuke stilled and watched, anticipation in his black eyes.

"Sit down." Iruka called. He was staring at Naruto, and Naruto stared back. Sasuke walked back to his seat, huffed in indignation and sat down. "Team assignments will be called out."

He zoned out for a few minutes.

"Team seven, Sasuke uchiha, Haruno Sakura, Inuzuka Kiba." There were shouts of excitement and groans. "Team Eight Uzumaki Naruto, Hyuuga Hinata, and Shino Aburame."


End file.
